


Wake-Up Call

by lovegonestale



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: spnkink_meme, Fingerfucking, M/M, Plot What Plot, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-18
Updated: 2011-11-18
Packaged: 2017-10-26 05:37:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/279328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovegonestale/pseuds/lovegonestale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "Dean wakes up spooned behind Cas, morning wood poking into Cas' back. While Cas sleeps on, Dean slips his fingers down to his hole, surprised at how wet Cas still is with lube and come. Cas wakes as Dean fingers him."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wake-Up Call

**Author's Note:**

> Full prompt: http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/52163.html?thread=13794243#t13794243

There are few things better than waking up with an armful of angel. No, scratch that, there are few things better than waking up with an armful of one very _specific_ angel with pale skin, a wiry body, and dark, messy hair that curls slightly at the nape of his neck. This is one of the first thoughts in Dean’s head as he stirs awake, arms around said wiry body and nose brushing the back of said neck.

Flashes of memories from the night before lure Dean to awareness, if only because the logical part of his brain (which shouldn’t be functioning this early, really) is telling him that surely those supposedly memories are really only _dreams_ , because it’s only in the perverted places of Dean’s mind that Castiel would’ve been a willing and vocal participant in some seriously acrobatic sex.

Dean’s hand – the one not squished between their bodies – drifts down the side of Castiel’s body, following the angles and lines of his limbs before coming to a rest on Castiel’s hip. Dean’s brain manages to register: skin, only skin, no clothes, Castiel is naked, this is _such_ a win.

It makes perfect sense for Dean to let his hand follow the firm contours of Castiel’s ass, dipping into the heat between his cheeks. Traces of wetness greets his fingertips, and Dean follows the trail to the epicentre: Castiel’s furled opening.

Okay, last night was definitely real.

Actually, it might’ve only been a few hours ago, because Castiel is still wet. Lube and come, not yet dry, are smeared across Castiel’s hole. Dean curiously slides through the wetness, marvelling how it’s almost like a pussy, wet and horny and waiting for him.

Dean pushes one finger in. Castiel opens for him smooth as silk, as though he was made solely for Dean’s entry. There’s no resistance.

There’s no response, either, which makes Dean realize that Castiel is still asleep. He’s an _angel_ , and he’s still asleep, exhausted by their frantic fucking. Well, _mostly_ exhausted, because Castiel’s hole clenches subtly around Dean’s finger, a subconscious tease and invitation for more.

Dean grins.

Unlike last night, there’s no rush now, no urgent race to reach orgasm. So Dean moves his finger slowly and carefully, gentle as he slips in and out of Castiel. There’s something wonderfully dirty about how easy it is, how silken the inner walls are as Dean strokes them, only curling his fingertips a little to drag against the sensitive skin.

Dean’s cock had been in there, and he revels in the evidence of it now. He imagines that his finger is rubbing his come into the walls, where they will remain a permanent mark of how Dean was here, how Castiel let him in.

Castiel murmurs something unintelligible.

“Yeah, I got you,” Dean says, though Castiel seems to still be asleep. He turns his fingers gently, noting the other evidence of his presence – the muscle is loose from being pounded with cock, and Dean imagines that if he looks down the rim would be pink and sore. But Dean doesn’t want to look down, because it’s enough to push his finger in until there’s nowhere left to go and Dean’s hand is up tight against wet skin.

Two fingers, then. It’s just as easy with two, pushing them into Castiel and twisting smoothly. Dean has been hard since he woke up but he ignores his erection for now, letting it only occasionally poke Castiel in the back, because what’s really of interest is the way Castiel moans softly when Dean’s fingers go in deep enough to find his prostate.

God, that’s a rush. Castiel’s not even awake and he’s hungry for it, ass canted up slightly in sleep and begging for more. Dean shoves his fingers a little harder than he means to, moaning his own approval at the way Castiel’s hole tightens instinctively, and that’s the moment Castiel wakes up.

“Whuh—Dean?” Castiel’s voice is thicker than usual, and he shiver-jerks with surprise when Dean crooks his fingers just so. “ _Dean._ ”

“I’m right here, Cas,” Dean replies, drawing closer against Castiel’s back. He finds the shell of Castiel’s ear and bites softly, basking in the way that makes Castiel shudder. “Where else would I be?”

Castiel’s body had been relaxed in sleep, but now he tenses up, moving in small, restless movements. He’s definitely not pulling away, though, not that Dean thought he would. Not when Castiel clenching desperately around his fingers, as though hoping to milk them the way he’d milked his cock earlier.

“Yeah, look at you,” Dean whispers against Castiel’s ear. He starts a firm rhythm with his fingers, pushing them in and out easily through the slick. “So wet and messy for me, you want it so bad, don’t you, Cas?”

Castiel whines softly, pushing his ass back on to Dean’s hand, wonderfully shameless. “Yes,” he says, though his body had already been clear with its answer. “Yes, Dean, I want it. I want you.”

“So open,” Dean says, quick to add a third finger pumping into Castiel. “Taking everything because you want it, because you were made for this, you beautiful slut, you love it all.” Castiel’s hole seems to quiver desperately around Dean’s fingers at the praise. “Good thing I love giving it to you.”

“Oh, Dean,” Castiel gasps, a perfectly wanton sound that Dean rewards by jabbing hard at his prostate, his aim brutally perfect against his sweet spot. That gets him another moan, the arc of Castiel’s back, and then – a handful of ruthless pokes at his prostate later – Castiel’s coming, sobbing and wailing at the helplessness of it.

Dean slows down as Castiel does, but doesn’t stop. His fingers are perfectly happy where they are, though he takes out one finger to bring it back down to two, just so he can move them around and revel in how loose and fucked out Castiel feels. Castiel obviously doesn’t mind, practically purring as he pushes back against Dean’s chest.

“So amazing,” Dean murmurs, nuzzling Castiel’s shoulder. “I feel like I could do this forever.”

“Please, no,” Castiel demurs, sounding disappointed. “I’m getting... dry, I think. I need, um. I need...” He pushes back pointedly against Dean’s cock.

“Oh, you greedy little bitch,” Dean says fondly. He curls his fingers again, laughing when Castiel chokes and shudders against him. “You want me to fill you up some more? Okay, I can do that.”


End file.
